Bob Dylan

Released: August 8, 1964

Songwriter: Bob Dylan

Producer: Tom Wilson (producer)

[Verse 1]
I’m just average, common too
I’m just like him, and the same as you
I’m everybody’s brother and son
I ain't different than anyone
Ain't no use a-talk to me
It’s just the same as talkin' to you

[Verse 2]
I was shadow boxing early in the day
I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
I said “Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay, here I come
26, 27, 28, 29, I’m gonna' make your face look just like mine
Five, four, three, two, one, Cassius Clay you’d better run
99, 100, 101, 102, your ma won’t even recognize you
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen”

[Verse 3]
Well, I don’t know, but I’ve been told
The streets of heaven are lined with gold
I ask ya' how things could get much worse
If the Russians happen to get up there first
Wowee! Pretty scary!

[Verse 4]
Now, I’m liberal, but to a degree
I want everybody to be free
But if you think I’ll let Barry Goldwater
Move in next door and marry my daughter
You must think I’m crazy!
I wouldn’t let him do it for all the farms in Cuba

[Verse 5]
Well, I set my monkey on the log
And ordered him to do the Dog
He wagged his tail and shook his head
And he went and did the Cat instead
He’s a weird monkey, very funky

[Verse 6]
I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
Waitin' to play tennis in the noonday sun
I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
And my wig-hat was fallin' in my face
But they wouldn’t let me on the tennis court

[Verse 7]
I got a woman, she’s so mean
She sticks my boots in the washing machine
Sticks me with buckshot when I’m nude
Puts bubblegum in my food
She’s funny, wants my money, calls me “honey”

[Verse 8]
Now I got a friend who spends his life
Stabbin' my picture with a Bowie knife
Dreams of stranglin' me with a scarf
When my name comes up he pretends to barf
I got a million friends!

[Verse 9]
Now they asked me to read a poem
At the sorority sisters home
Ah got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
I wound up with the Dean of Women
Yippee! I’m a poet, and I know it
Hope I don’t blow it

[Verse 10]
I’m gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
So I look like a walking mountain range
And I’m gonna' ride into Omaha on a horse
Out to the country club and the golf course
Carryin' The New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds

[Verse 11]
Now you’re probably wonderin' by now
Just what this song is all about
What’s probably got you baffled more
Is what this thing here is for:

(plays song's riff)

It’s nothin'
It’s sumpin' I learned over in England!

Bob Dylan (born Robert Zimmerman May 24, 1941), is an American singer-songwriter, writer, and artist who has influenced popular music and culture for more than five decades. Dylan has especially played a critical role in the American folk music revival.

Dylan’s songs are built from myriad political, social, philosophical and literary influences. Many of his anti-war and civil-rights-influenced songs set social unrest, as journalists widely named him the “spokesman for his generation” in the 1960s.

The musician has a signature change in voice and style in many different albums of his throughout the decades. He has notably explored and experimented with the genres of folk, rap, blues, and rock.

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